


Five questions

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [47]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4 missing scene, F/M, Season 8, The day after TBTWP, fluff and confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:57:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: The day after their passionate night together, Brienne wonders if it was just a drunken moment of lust. In response to her question, Jaime has five questions for her.EDIT : Only now did I notice the JBO prompt "Five ways to say "I love you" and figured out that this fits!





	Five questions

Jaime Lannister had not yet told her that he loved her.

The question running in her mind ever since he had climbed off her with a satiated groan, Brienne was unable to sleep, confused if last night had been a one time affair, a drunken surrender to lust or if there was really more to it. His eyes spoke a lot, told her what she needed to know, but she couldn’t trust _her_ eyes and her mind beyond a point, for people often made the mistake of seeing only what they wished to see.

_Do his eyes mean what I think they do? Or is it merely my imagination?_

He had given Brienne the night of her life, but he’d said nothing after that, the alcohol inside him numbing his senses and any ability to speak. He’d made love to her just once, but what a great few moments those had been! He had introduced her to sensations she’d never known she could experience, touched her in places she wasn’t even aware existed in her body, kissed her where no man had ever ventured before. And none ever would. 

Except Jaime. But would there be a second time?

In a bid to calm her troubled mind, Brienne crept out of bed before dawn, leaving the snoring knight in her bed to sleep, hoping for a few minutes of solitude to bring her the answers she sought. So off she went to the training yard, armed with the sword he’d gifted her.

_He does love me,_ she thought, furiously swinging Oathkeeper in the air, _why else does he look at me like I am his world?_

_Maybe it’s just affection,_ the skeptical part of her brain argued while she swished her arm through the emptiness, cutting through imaginary opponents, _he cares for me, but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with me._  

_He gave me his most precious possession,_ said the positive voice in her again.

_But he was very much in love with Cersei even when he bid me an emotional goodbye,_ shouted the counter-opinion voice loudly, _and he literally drove me away when we last met at King’s Landing._

_There’s no way he’d fuck loyalty…_

_But he came here to do the right thing, he--_

“Careful, wench,” drawled the voice that always managed to set her heart racing, “you’ll take someone’s eye out.”

Returning the blade to her waist, she turned to Jaime who was standing behind her, looking effortlessly handsome even when just out of the bed, his clothes crumpled and his hair messy, the untidiness only making him more attractive. “There’s no one here,” she pointed out the obvious, scanning the empty courtyard.

He studied her closely. “Alright, out with it,” he insisted, looking at her squarely in the eye, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

“You’re disturbed,” he correctly gauged her unease, “why else would you be out here in the cold instead of enjoying the warmth of my bed?” Grinning, he went on without waiting for an answer, “Let’s not waste anymore time talking, wench, come back indoors and I could do a lot more to you than I did last night.”

“Is everything a joke to you, Jaime?” she cried out before she could stop herself, hurt that the only thing he seemed to be interested in was to take her to bed again.

The smug grin now off his face, he assumed a solemn expression. “What’s bothering you, Brienne?” he asked, searching her face. “You know quite well I’m not joking, and that last night was--”

“What was it?” she demanded before he could finish. “What are we now, Jaime, where do we stand?”

He took a deep breath and remained silent for a while. “Care for a walk, my lady?” he broke the tense silence at last, offering her his arm.

Finding no valid reason to counter him, Brienne let him lead her outside.

“Let’s play a little game, wench,” he suggested after another pregnant pause.

“I’ve had enough of your drinking games to last me a lifetime,” Brienne snapped, miffed at his lack of seriousness. “This is not the time--”

“Who said it’s a drinking game?” He looked at her intently, his keen eyes imploring her, pleading with her to comply with his request. “Just this once,” he coaxed her.

“Very well, get on with it,” she agreed, wondering where this was going as they made their way together under the golden glow of the gradually emerging sun.

“I’m going to ask you five questions about myself,” he explained, “if you get them right, you win, if not, I’m the victor.”

“What happens if I win?”

“I do your bidding,” he went on, “whatever you want. And if I win--”

“--I’m expected to do the same,” she guessed, finding no surprise in it, “pretty obvious, isn’t it? And what about what I asked you? You’re yet to answer me--”

“You’ll have your answers by the time we get to the end of our walk.” Before she could think or say anything further, he sprang the first question on her. “What was I thinking of you when we first met?”

“Easy one, that is,” she immediately said, letting out a dry laugh when she recollected those priceless conversations, “you hated me. Not just hated--” she searched for a more accurate word “--you _despised_ me. You enjoyed hurling insults at me and pelting me with taunts--”

“You're mistaken, wench,” he cut in, unsmiling and serious.

Brienne couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “What do you mean?”  

He turned slightly red when he spoke. “I _thought_ I hated you,” he admitted sheepishly, “I didn’t actually dislike you. All those insults, those snide remarks were my escape route--”

This was new to her. “Escape from what?”

“From my confusion, the whole mess of emotions I was forced to deal with, thoughts that left me in a constant state of conflict. Trust me, my lady,” he went on softly, “I desperately _wanted_ to hate you, but failed miserably at it.”

She had to know more now. “Why--”

But eager that he was to move on, Jaime didn’t let her speak, jumping to the next question. “Why did I come back for you at Harrenhal?”

This was simple enough. “You’re a knight, Ser Jaime,” she said, addressing him by his title for the first time since they’d been intimate last night, “you’re duty bound to protect the innocent.”

He nodded thoughtfully as they continued their brisk walk. “While that’s partially correct, it’s not the entire truth. I returned because I cared for you.” He stopped and turned to her. “I felt connected to you, in a strange way, I was beginning to get the feeling that you’re the knight I’d always wanted to be.”

His words left her confused. “I don’t understand--”

“You will, soon. Shall we move on?” When they resumed on their little journey again, she noticed that the winter sun had cast a beautiful glow in the sky above them.

“Why did I turn you down at the dragon pit, Brienne?”

Brienne frowned, the memory and the insult standing out in her mind as if it were yesterday. “Because you were faithful to your sister, you didn’t want to support Sansa’s dolt brother--”

“That was something I was compelled to tell you then,” he intervened, “I pushed you away because I didn’t want to antagonize Cersei against you,” he revealed, his voice taking on an edge of agitation. “I saw the way she glared at you and I didn’t want the Mountain or any of her henchmen murdering you.”

She’d never looked at it this way, but coming to think of it now, it made perfect sense. “Jaime--”

“What are the three things of utmost importance to me?” He now seemed to be restless, and in a hurry to bring this matter to a close.

“Your house, your family and--” she had to take a deep breath before she could mention the next thing on her mind “--your sister.”

Jaime stopped once again, turning to face her and she followed suit, halting in her tracks. “Wrong again,” he softly corrected her. “My honour, love and--” he let out a heavy sigh “-- _you,_ Brienne.”

Speechless, she didn’t know how to react, though she could surmise where this was going. Without warning, he unlinked his arm from hers and grasped her hand, taking her by surprise. “Last question,” he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes, “why, do you think, I came to Winterfell?”

His touch and the power of his gaze threatening to blank out her mind, she had to make a valiant effort to speak. “Because you made a promise to fight for the living,” she whispered, remembering his words to Daenerys, “because--”

“--I love you, Brienne,” he finished the sentence for her.

Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat, for these were the words she had ached to hear. She’d craved his love for years, hoping she would, one day, be blessed with it whilst being prudent enough not to be carried away by dreams that could never be expected to come true.

_Dreams are dreams, only to be dreamt and forgotten as soon as sleep met its end._

“I hope you’re not jesting, ser,” she said, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, “because I have the strength to withstand anything, but not you joking about something like this--”

“Look around you, wench.” Only now did she notice that they had reached the Godswood. “Would I lie in front of them?” he asked, glancing at the ancient tree.

“Are you saying--”

“I’m saying that I won, which means--” he took a step further, closing the gap between them, “you’re going to do as I say.”

She gulped, apprehensive about what he might have in store for her. “What do you want me to do?”

“Be my wife,” he insisted without hesitation, his lips curving in a smile, “marry me.”

Brienne allowed herself to return his smile when it finally sank in that this was real. “You've tricked me, this was no ordinary game,” she told him, his ploy reminding her of Tyrion’s plan to get them together under the pretext of a drinking game.

“Everything’s fair in love and war,” Jaime replied cockily before capturing her lips in the sweetest kiss she’d ever experienced.

_Dreams do come true_ , she realized as she kissed him back, _this moment is the proof for it._

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you liked it


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